Betrayal
by born-a-zutarian
Summary: Post series. In which Sasuke regrets and reflects and Naruto deals with the consequences of the war. "I resent the fact that Uzumaki, Naruto, a definition on his own, would succumb to something so trivial as death." SasuNaru if continued


**A/N: **So this is a new story for me or more like my _only_ story. I'll see how the prologue goes with readers then will decide whether or not to turn into multi-chap. If it's fail-tastic then I probably won't continue. Story will be in Sasuke's pov and if continued then will be SasuNaru.

**- Pipi **

**Disclaimer: **Not cool enough to own Naruto even if he wants me to. The rightful owner is the colourfully talented Masashi Kishimoto

**Prologue **

_Betrayal._

One word that that should not be foreign, not to me of all people, for I have spent the last sixteen years trapped within its deception; yet the fact that it exists, the fact that I had allowed myself to fall prey to it, blindly accepting the lies that were fed to me, the lies that I weaved made it no easier to bear the consequences. Worst of all is the realisation that the one I was betrayed by above all others… was myself.

For years I have blamed others for my fate, never once willing to accept responsibility for my own life, nor accepting that the perpetrators of my agony were my very own flesh and blood – the infamous Uchiha. I continued relying on anger, hatred and revenge as my main outlets. Revenge against my only true family, my brother; revenge against my home, the only place willing to give me solace, and most importantly revenge against _him,_ my once closest friend.

I was selfish. My only goal in life since I had been burdened with the knowledge of my family's murderer, was to take his life in exchange; somehow I thought that would redeem my cowardice when I had been afraid to face him at such a tender age, or perhaps more simply, I thought that having a goal would give me purpose; but a purpose quickly changed into obsession, a need to prove myself, which ended up consuming me whole until that became the _only _reason for my existence. With that reason came the undying need for power.

It got to the point where I did not care about anything or anyone else; consequences be damned. Where once people were friends, colleagues, teachers, innocent villagers became nothing more than obstacles, a hindrance to achieving my goal. I wanted nothing to do with them; no meaningless bonds, severe all ties.

"_We suffer because of our bonds," _I had told _him. _

How blind I was.

At some point I think I had indeed lost my mind. Perhaps it had been the day my brother had lost his life trying to save mine or perhaps when I had been callously informed about the sacrifices he had made. But it does ultimately beg the question of had I ever actually been sane after the massacre of my family?

No. I don't think I was or not completely sane. It progressively got worse – if the fact that I had tried to kill the person I had called my best friend numerous times was any indication. _A chidori through the chest _had only been the beginning_. _ My mind became a black whole, devouring, destroying; hatred pulsing through my blood, replacing oxygen as a source of life.

I had created my own personal purgatory, going so far as to willing to sacrifice my body for power and siding with the world's greatest villain just to prove a meaningless, non-existent point.

Now I stand alone, surrounded by ruin – the aftermath of an all consuming war. There is only silence. Painfully deafening.

I am lost to the world or perhaps it is lost to me. My vision darkens while my left eye bleeds profusely. The physical pain no longer matters as I wait my final judgement.

I feel the earth crying, channelling her overwhelming misery through me. She weeps, mourning the loss of so many of her own for which I am to blame in many ways.

I count down the minutes before I am once again reunited with her as have countless others on the battle-field – men, women (ninja and non-ninja alike), elderly… children. No group of people spared; becoming one with the rubble. Given what I am capable of seeing with my deteriorating vision…. The devastation is perpetual.

I count down my minutes. My only redemption is in death now…

Suddenly I hear _his _name. I hear them screaming… screaming for him; but the screams just may be of my own selfish heart.

But I hear it clearer now. There are screams and agonising wails. They are crying for him.

_Naruto. _My best friend.

I barely make out the outlines of a crowd of ninja gathering further out- the same place where I had last seen his body; unmoving and cold.

_Uchiha, Madara._ The reason for the everlasting devastation and the reason why Konoha's number one unpredictable ninja was now laying motionless was this very man- the same being whose tainted blood I had shared.

In all my rage I had finally ended his life as he had my friend's.

A part of me refuses to believe that my friend, my brother, breathes no more. The mere thought is enough to raise bile to my throat. I resent the fact that Uzumaki, Naruto, a definition on his own, would succumb to something so trivial as death. He has a promise to keep after all.

He had promised me a new reason for existence – if he no longer exists then neither does the reason. In such a short span he had become my reason- however that may have been. He had promised.

But will he fight for me now? Now that that I have decided I no longer have the will to live? Will that somehow reach him? Will that breathe life into him?

He had always fought for me. Relentlessly. Never once taking my countless denials of friendship as an affirmation to stop. I never understood his obsession, it had always bothered me; but he simply told me that I was his friend, his special person.

"_I will always care about you Sasuke."_

I want to reach out, to call out just to hear him say my name, say something. I will gladly give up anything- had I had anything to give- just to hear his voice one last time. If only life will grant me this one last request.

But as quickly as this urge had come, it now vanishes along with my other remaining senses. My eyes droop; my body heavy as I collapse into a pile of limbs.

I feel the pitter-patter of something cold and wet sliding all along my body. How fitting. Even the heavens are mourning.

I think of a mass of shockingly blonde hair, of understanding cerulean eyes, a smile that lingers, of words spoken.

"_I'll bear the burden of your hatred and we'll die together."_

My eyes close. Only a few seconds remaining. Not long now.


End file.
